


His Father's Blessing

by CherryJacks



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJacks/pseuds/CherryJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spring air he feels is light. Nothing like the weight of the box he holds in his pocket and nothing like the weight of the question he has been wishing to ask. All that matters now is that first tapping on a pastel cottage door and the hope of one man's blessing he hopes to receive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Father's Blessing

Couriway Town is light and fresh with sparkling waterways and romantic waterfalls. It was also a small place of natural beauty that Lysandre admired and it was where his beloved Augustine's family home was nestled. His perfectly polished shoes clicked softly on the stone pathway that led up to the quaint cottage. A practically ancient truck with rusting paint sat parked in the nearby drive. The paint while faded, could still just make out the logo for the Sycamore flower shop that Augustine's father once ran.

It had since been sold, the truck remaining to remind the aged Kalosian of his old dream. Ramond Sycamore had once hoped that his children would have run the shop after him, but both his children had achieved dreams of their own. For that he was most pleased, all he ever really wanted was for his children to achieve greatness in their own way.

Augustine had admitted to Lysandre at one time that he sometimes wondered how his life would have been running the flower shop instead of becoming the region's Pokémon Professor. Lysandre couldn't quite recall exactly what he said, but he was sure he told him that his brilliance would have been a great loss. Though as the tall Kalosian gazed on the truck, his eyes picking out all the lines of the logo, he thought of the quiet peace one could feel doing such a thing. Surely Augustine would have strived in creating the most beautiful bouquets of flowers that Kalos had ever seen.

Lysandre's gloved hand hovered over the wood of the door, his free one thrust into his pocket to make sure (for nearly the hundredth time) that the small velvet box was still there. The nervousness that rocked him wasn't something that he commonly allowed to grip him so tightly. Such things he did well to train out of himself so he could present himself to his followers without a single bead of sweat dropping from his brow. Of course he wasn't about to attend a meeting of his scientists or meet with a room of followers in burning red. No, this was a meeting of the unknown. He was, for the first time in his life, about to drop into something he couldn't possibly plan for completely.

 _"Augustine will say yes,"_ That was the only thing he could tell himself with full certainty. He had no reason to doubt that the Professor would be nothing more than happy to hear his question, but Lysandre was a man raised on etiquette. If it wasn't for that fact, he would have already taken the Professor out for a night of delights. The finest food and drink, dancing in clothes that fit his body to perfection, only to end the night under the clearest night and brightest stars. Perhaps it would be seen as too much to some, but how else could be fully show Augustine how much devotion he felt to him. He would soon drop down on one knee and present the glistening band. The ring was practical, something he knew the Professor would appreciate, but still imbedded with diamonds (lab created, Lysandre refused to support the trade) and perfectly blue sapphires.

Etiquette demanded he wait. It wouldn't be long before he was delighting his partner with the planned date, but first he needed to gather his strength and knock on the door.

Not too hard, he didn't wish to seem desperate. Not too soft either, he didn't wish to be seen as meek. Then he waited, taking carefully counted steps back from the doorway to give space. Three steps were perfect. No, four, he quickly corrected. His shoulder's relaxed, but not enough to make him seem sluggish. He was sure his hair was perfect and his beard neat, but it didn't change the fact that he wished to have glanced at it before he heard steps approach the door.

"Ah, a guest!" A cheerful voice called upon opening. Ramond shuffled forth, his steps slow and careful. Age was nothing kind to the man, but bright eyes were still full of life and hair still bountiful with curls, though all nearly white. It was the eyes that were the same grey that Augustine shared. In fact there was a lot of Augustine that Lysandre could see in the aged frame of the Professor's father. A thought that honestly didn't thrill him much. Though those eyes appeared to scrutinize him to the fullest capacity beyond wrinkled lids.  

"Lysandre, do come in now." Ramond finally spoke to Lysandre's relief, "I was just having myself some tea, come sit with me in the kitchen."

Lysandre was thankful that Ramond had turned away to lead him inside, he didn't care much to have the man see him duck in under the door frame. He tried not to think about the fact that his hair was most likely dusting the ceiling as he walked, actually he knew it was. When a chair was offered in the (Lysandre settled on referring to it as retro) kitchen, he was happy to take it.

"Merci." He said in the most agreeable tone he could produce. If Augustine's father could tell he was perhaps trying too hard, he didn't let on while he poured hot water in his kettle into not only his cup but another.

A cloud of awkwardness settled when Ramond took his seat across from Lysandre and quietly sipped at his weak tea. Lysandre mimicked the action and tried to buy himself some time. He cursed the home internally as though it was to blame for his mind blanking on how to form words.

"Lysandre," Ramond began, "I take it you have a reason for meeting me before Augustine arrives." He took another long drink, the nearly scrutinizing gaze returned, "Augustine and I do talk quite a lot, I know that you have quite a date planned with him."

The redhead gulped and cleared his throat. It didn't seem as refined as he imagined it in his head, instead showing how terribly nervous he actually was. Ramond was offering him the speaking floor however, so even if it wasn't as perfect and eloquent in delivery as he had hoped, he would speak, "I have been seeing your son for some time now." He paused when Ramond nodded and rested the side of his face in his palm, "I care for him greatly and I thought..."

Ramond simply took a long breath, but didn't say anything. He was waiting for Lysandre to finish what he already knew he was going to say. Even with that knowledge, the action Lysandre wanted to do meant little if he could not complete his sentence.

"I would be honored I mean. If you could, would give me your blessing to ask for your son's hand in marriage?"

"Huh." Ramond sighed and he placed his hands in a stack in front of him. He appeared to consider his next words carefully and even though he probably took no longer than a few seconds, the wait was torture for Lysandre, "You don't need my blessing, or permission to marry my son. If he loves you and wishes for such a thing then his permission is all you need."

"Thank you-" Lysandre tried to say, but was stalled by Ramon's hand raising abruptly.

"But, you did ask me didn't you?" The aged man straightened as much as his worn back would allow, "You don't need my permission, but my blessing? You do not have it."

Lysandre was left with his mouth agape, unable to quite piece together what he could possibly say. The only word that offered to voice was one, "Why?"

Again it would appear that the man considered the question very carefully, "Why? I don't doubt that you believe you love my son. I'm sure most parents would be thrilled to see their child potentially marry someone with your drive and success." He leaned across the small table and despite his smaller frame, he managed to look quite intimidating, "There are drives you have that I think you should strongly consider slowing down." His face darkened, "My son is very trusting, but I am not." He stood and cleared the table even though Lysandre hadn't finished his own tea, "Whatever it is you think you are going to pull him into, I suggest you take a long time to think first."

As though a flip was switched the man's demeanor changed at the sound of playful knocking at the door, "Augustine!" He cheerfully called, "I was just having a lovely chat with your polite boyfriend!"

He left Lysandre sitting stiffly while he greeted his son. Only the soft peck of lips and the slight brush of scruff pulled him from his mind, "Are you ready to go Lysandre?" Augustine said with a smile.

"You two have fun!" Ramond called from the doorway as the two men left arm and arm.

The last thing Lysandre saw was the return of the unmistakable scrutinizing look from Augustine's father. No amount of fine food and drink, dancing in fine clothes, and clear starry nights could push a thought from his mind, "How much did Ramond know?"

**Author's Note:**

> So fun fact while I was searching for a good name for Augustine's father. Ramond means: guards wisely. 
> 
> Lysandre better watch it.


End file.
